…and so then, when the sun comes up
Glazing with gold the dangling leaf
And the dew-lipped earth; a silver cup
Mirrors its eons of passion and grief
When the song-bird flits from its shady perch
To herald the morn awakening fair
From maple and willow, from elm and birch
They warble and fill the virgin air
With their song; you will not be here
…and just because I taste your name
Where once your kisses filled my mouth
And just because all seems the same
Against my east, west, north and south
And just because there is no grave
On which to shed my silent screams
And just because the heart is brave
In spite of torn and tattered dreams
That once we shared; you will not be here
…and all the ‘something mores’ we crave
If the raw, raging truth were told
And all the blessings that we have
Will not keep us from growing old
And all the ‘never mores’ we knew
Meld into fabrics of the heart
Where they remain, an avenue
Strewn recklessly with precious art
Called memories; you will not be here
…but you will be where all the rest
Like you have gone to fill the past
Briefly my love, you were the best
But now your void is iron-cast
I held you closely and we danced
But quietly you slipped away
Without a tender backward glance
You disappeared into the gray
And come what may you will never be here again
...for you are Yesterday
Sigh....
ReplyDelete"precious art
Called memories"
:) Thank-you.
ReplyDelete